


Cyber-Subversive

by FriendlyDragon



Category: Cryaotic (Youtube RPF), PewDiePie (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Android!Cry, Dystopia, Gen, Gore, Horror, Inventor!Pewdie, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyDragon/pseuds/FriendlyDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 2095 the world is a bleak and dangerous place, where technological advancement is valued above all else. A series of unusual events will force Felix, a factory worker and hapless inventor, into the life of an android named Cry and a war he never even knew existed.</p>
<p>  <b>Cyberpunk AU in which I try to fit as many clichés and tropes into one fic as I can.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyber-Subversive

**Author's Note:**

> Featuring Android!Cry and Inventor!Pewdie.
> 
> Please try to ignore any medical inaccuracies; I do my research but I'm still about as educated in medicine as a potato.

_**SYSTEM RECOVERY AT 100%; REBOOTING UNIT 31825.**_

He woke to the sound of agonised screaming so harsh and loud it seemed to shake the world around him. Eyes snapping open, he blinked hard, vision still adjusting as he slowly came back online. The screaming continued, assaulting his still rebooting senses from all sides and for a brief moment he felt like he was floating.

He looked down then, suddenly seeing a crumpled form writhing at his feet but his brain was still rebooting and he couldn’t string a thought together and he didn’t _understand_. Was he in some kind of trouble? He watched, mesmerised, as a puddle of dark liquid pooled around his feet and soaked into the hems of his trousers.

The screaming continued and he realised that it _was _coming from all around him, a collective howl of human rage and pain and fear. It was only then that he realised that he was standing in the middle of a large crowd, shocked and horrified faces at all sides, looking from him to the crumpled form before him and back again. He didn’t recognise any of them, though somewhere in his mind he knew that he should. He flinched violently as he picked out one word from the many being hurled about, one that was echoed by many others in the crowd until it was almost a chant.__

__“MONSTER!”_ _

__Monster? Him? He was hit with a wave of confusion so strong that his vision greyed for several seconds before the colours slowly seeped back in. He looked down again and froze. The dark liquid wasn’t just dark anymore._ _

__It was red._ _

__And the crumpled form was still screaming._ _

__The reality of the situation slammed into him and nearly knocked him off his feet. His memory trickled back in flashes of images; a man, jeering at him from across the room. A man, screaming insults into his face. A man, pleading desperately for him to just stop, god, please as his arm is ripped out at the socket. A man, wailing in agony as he desperately clutches the place where his left arm wasn’t._ _

__He found himself screaming as well when he looked down to see the mans arm still clutched in his right hand, dead fingers still twitching sporadically. He threw it away from himself instinctively and it landed with a sickening splat beside the injured man, who was no longer screaming. Or moving._ _

__The chanting rose to a crescendo and the crowd converged on him as one, grabbing hands and lunging fists striking him from all directions. He howled in pain as his head was wrenched violently back by his hair and a fist connected with his stomach, forcing the breath from him and causing a series of warnings and diagnostics to flash rapidly before his eyes._ _

_**CRITICAL DAMAGE; RIBS 7 AND 10.**_

A booted foot stamped hard on his ankle and he felt it snap. 

_**BIMALLEOLAR FRACTURE; RIGHT ANKLE.**_

Another fist slammed into the side of his head; once, twice, three times. 

_**FRACTRE; TEMPORAL BONE. ELETRONIC BRAIN INTEGRTY COMPRMSED.**_

He was too far gone to understand the diagnostics anymore, too consumed by pain and fear and panic. 

_**CRTCL DMGE TO UNT 31825; UNT UNBLE TO FNCTON NRMLY.**_

He could only just recognise his own Unit Number amongst the garbled words. 

_**SYTM FALRE; UNT 31825. SHUTNG DWN.**_

__There was a familiar numbness setting in and he realised that he was about to shut down. He flailed weakly, a feeble attempt to free himself from the throng of angry workers baying for his blood. If he shut down here he’d be killed for sure, but he could do nothing to save himself. He sobbed openly and was comforted by the knowledge that no-one would be able to hear it._ _

__He was slipping away, vision coming in and out of focus before cutting out altogether, when he heard it. Above the roars of rage and accusations, a familiar voice screaming his name; the name he’d picked for himself all those years ago, the name he’d become accustomed to hearing over the years. And the voice was full of concern. He smiled sadly, grateful that he would die knowing that at least one person still cared enough for him to fear for his safety._ _

__The pull of the crowd on his battered body was gone now and he could barely hear them anymore. He felt his eyes drift closed and let himself go limp._ _

“Oh _fuck_! Cry, no!” 


End file.
